The Referee
by Skate-815
Summary: A StuartSamPhil love triangle fic. Sam's POV on playing the referee in Phil and Stu's many arguements. it's a one shot. PLEASE REVIEW!


**A/N: Just something I wrote for a ff competition and I decided I liked it enough to put it on here**

At first it was cute. Then, it was funny. Now it's just annoying.

My boyfriend, DS Stuart Turner and my friend (and if I'm honest, the guy who I probably would be dating if Stuart hadn't turned up) DS Phil Hunter, just won't stop arguing. Everything becomes a competition with them. And every competition ends the same way. With them expecting me to resolve it. From cases to coffee; from me to mail and from witnesses to the weather, there's always something to argue about. Always some way to try and score points with me. And they're too wrapped up in their little games to see that their impressing no-one. If anything, it makes me want to knock their heads together even more.

In general, I find the best way to resolve their issues is for me to leave them to it. To ignore them completely until they gain a little perspective on the matter. However, sometimes, I can't avoid choosing one over the other. Sometimes, it really does come down to me choosing between my boyfriend and my best friend, and it hurts like hell when I see the other, (usually Phil's) hurt expression. Yes, I admit, I often choose Stuart over Phil because Stuart's the one I have to live with. Stuart is the one I _should _be siding with, according to all those trashy magazines and self-help books. Sometimes, most of the time actually, I feel like walking out of the room and leaving someone else to deal with it. One time, when pressured to pick someone to help me with a case, I picked Terry, in the hope that neither Stuart nor Phil would feel left out. Unfortunately, my plan backfired and they both walked round with those injured expressions all day. I know it's cruel, yet sometimes, I feel like walking across the room and throwing myself at Zain, just to see their expressions. Because the constant bickering, often over nothing, is driving me insane, yet neither of the two people who are supposed to know me best have noticed.

I gaze at my desk. It is littered with boxes full of alcohol that were brought in as evidence. I sigh, knowing to get any work done, they'll have to be taken downstairs. And I know that unless I want to break my neck carrying them down the stairs, I'm going to need someone's help to carry them. But, perhaps that sounds preferable to the constant bickering. Maybe they wouldn't put me in that position if I was lying in a hospital bed... I shake my head, trying to get rid of that train of thought before it gets any further. Next they'll have me wishing I was dead, just for some peace and quiet... Right on cue, the DCI looks out his door and calls out to me

"Sam, if you're going to shift those boxes, get someone to give you a hand" I merely nod in acknowledgement to his order and sigh again as Phil and Stuart's eyes bore into me. Each silently begging me to choose them to carry the boxes. Each feeling that it will be a personal insult to their manhood if I _don't_ ask them to carry a heavy box down a flight of steps. They probably wouldn't even offer if the other wasn't there. Actually, Phil probably would, but Stuart, I know, would probably make me do it myself

"I'll do it if you want Serge" Mickey offers, standing up. Both of my boys shoot him a glare and the look on Mickey's face would have at one point made me burst out laughing. Not anymore. This has gone on far too long and they've intimidated far too many people. Mickey actually looks relieved as his phone rings and gives him an excuse to sit back down again.

"I'll help you if you want," Phil said, standing up

"No it's alright, I've got them" Stuart replied, shooting him the death glare again. "I'm her boyfriend after all"

"Yeah, but I offered first" he replies, not caring how childish he sounds. Neither caring that most of CID are staring at them. Everyone, in fact, except Mickey, who still seems too afraid to look at either of them. I care though. I'm tired of all the pitying glances I get from the female population of CID members.

They both look at me again, with just a hint of desperation in their expressions. I consider taking Mickey upon his offer, but as Phil once told me while we were watching football,

"_A draws worse than a loss"_ I never really understood what he meant until Stuart arrived and this little game started. A draw would injure both of their prides and as much as I feel like doing that, I know it would be worse for me in the long run. So I open my mouth to act like the dutiful girlfriend, and pick the man I like (I don't think I love him yet) over all others. Then Phil takes off his jacket and I can see him flexing his muscles in a not-at-all-subtle-way, and I find myself saying

"Can you help me Phil?" without even realising what I'm doing. I know I should be standing by Stuart, but to be honest, I just don't care. Anyway, Phil's stronger, I rationalize. He'll be able to carry more stuff at once. And he always holds open doors for me. And maybe I'm sick of picking the obvious choice. Maybe I'm sick of picking Stuart because some trashy magazine's agony aunt tells everyone they should "stand by their man".

Phil smirks at Stuart triumphantly and I roll my eyes as Stuart looks at me sadly. He's acting like I said I wanted to break up with him or something. Maybe he thinks I do. Maybe I do... I shake my head again. Another dangerous train of thought. I like Stuart. A lot. And the only other guy I would even consider going out with, might not like me anymore, so it's not worth the risk.

Phil grabs a box, not at all straining under the weight, like I know Stuart would and yet still manages to hold the door open for me. He flashes me a grin as I struggle to keep my own box steady and takes it off me as soon as we're out of sight, clearly thinking I care about people seeing me carry boxes as much as he seems to. My hand rushes out to steady the top box as it nearly topples over and I feel a twinge of guilt for making him carry so much at a time. He just smiles again though and easily finishes the trip to the evidence room.

"That all of them?" he asks

"Yep"

"So want to go for a drink after to work. You know, to celebrate the... box lifting?" he asks, hope in his eyes. How could I ever think he wasn't interested anymore? I want to say yes, I really do, but something stops me from agreeing. Maybe I feel I've betrayed Stuart enough for one day, but whatever it is, I know I have to turn him down. For the good of my relationship. To make Stuart feel secure if nothing else. So I lie,

"I'm babysitting for Abi tonight"

"Oh. Okay" he knows I'm lying and he looks hurt about it. Badly hurt at that, so on impulse, I reach up and kiss his cheek and say,

"I'm free tomorrow though" and his face lights up at once, what looks to be pure joy filling him. As we re-enter CID, Stuart glares at Phil again and I remember that their paired together for a case today. The DI must have laughed when he decided that. I sit with my back to them, but almost as once, the furious whispers between the two restart. Within seconds, their voices are raised and the shouting begins again. Then I hear Stuart's voice

"Let's just ask Sam then"

"Okay" Phil agrees

"SAM!" Stuart bellows across CID. I sigh and stand up again, still tired of playing the referee and already knowing who's side I'm going to take, before I even hear the problems. As usual, I'm going to pick Stuart. I'm going to go back to playing the dutiful girlfriend, unless Stuart's suggestion is totally moronic, and let's face it; it wouldn't be the first time he'd said something too stupid for me to back up. Phil looks at me hopefully as I stand beside him, and I hate to hurt him by choosing Stuart, but it's what has to be done. Because if I don't, then I let, myself get too close to Phil. And it's in those moments I begin to realise I'm falling for Phil instead.


End file.
